


Tongue Twisted

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Foreign Language, M/M, i used google translate i apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 21:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11260938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alfred is learning Russian, but things don't click for him until he gets help from a native speaker. While working with Ivan, it's not just the Russian lessons that are starting to click.





	Tongue Twisted

**Author's Note:**

> This is reposted from my tumblr; it was a gift to someone as part of the rusame gift exchange last winter, but they never acknowledged it so lol now i'm regifting it to y'all.

Alfred was groaning, rolling about in bed and cursing his existence. Why on earth did he convince himself to take this course? It had nothing to do with his major, the department was so unimpressive that it was combined with another language, it was his hardest class that required the most time commitment, and it was just plain weird!

“Alfred!” his roommate, far too exhausted for such nonsense so late at night, kicked the bottom of the top bunk upon which Alfred was whining. “Shut up! I need to sleep!”

“But Arthur…. It’s no fair… My Russian professor is so mean! I swear she’s some kind of ex-KGB spy, or something. All she does is bash on America: why even come here to teach, then?”

“You’re leaving out the fact that all you do is bash on Russia.”

“I never do that!”

“Yes you do!”

“No way!”

“You do. Why don’t you just drop the class before the drop period is up? You don’t need it to graduate, do you?”

“No. But, I _want_ to learn it! It’s just hard!”

“Just like your head. Anyway, can’t you complain about this tomorrow? I have an early morning study session I need to get to.”

He pouted. “Fine.”

Alfred awoke to an empty room the next morning, just before noon. As a senior, he’d selected most of his classes to be later in the afternoon—he didn’t even have classes on Friday. It was a rather pleasant arrangement; the only class giving him any difficulties was his completely optional Russian language course. He’d signed up for it on a whim; his father had advised him that learning Russian would make him competitive in the search for a career. He’d also mentioned Farsi, Arabic, and Chinese, but of all the recommendations, he thought Russian would be the easiest—he was already a master at impersonating the accent thanks to his many years of watching spy flicks, after all.  

He brushed his teeth before trekking across campus to the student center for his favorite drink, an Iced White Mocha. Since his first class wasn’t till the afternoon, he was usually able to avoid the hectic morning rush that plagued Starbucks every day; however, there was still the lunch crowd he had to deal with, either students with a short break between classes or those brave souls who planned their schedule such that they could finish early, leaving the whole day to study and finish homework. Where was the fun in that? he thought. Then you could never go to the bars!

Despite Arthur’s accusations that Alfred was “the laziest, most spoiled brat on campus,” he actually wasn’t an awful student. He preferred to call himself efficient with his work. In addition, over the past however many years he’d been forced to attend school, he’d become well-accustomed to his work habits. He knew, for instance, that he thrived under extreme duress and pressure, preferably when loaded up with pizza, Taco Bell 12-packs, and caffeine. Sure, he was often left scrambling at the last minute, but he had yet to fail a class. It also helped that he religiously attended office hours and charmed his professors with his smile and wit. Those pained hours spent laughing at his professors’ corny jokes added up when his grade was between an B+ and an A-, as well as when he begged for paper extensions. It was a system he knew how to finesse.

That’s why he was rather stressed that fall semester with his Russian class. It was only the third week, but he was already bogged down with the lessons. He had the class every day, and office hours twice a week. In addition, during the semester, he was required to attend a set number of films, “language lunches”, and tutoring sessions to contribute to his participation grade. Plus, he had to keep up a blog about his learning! To add insult to injury, he was the only senior in a class full of bright-eyed freshman, so he didn’t have any contacts he felt comfortable enough to ask if he could “verify” that the answers on his homework were correct.

They had a vocab quiz that day, and Alfred knew that he was going to fail the second he read the first prompt. He tried to peep his neighbor’s quiz, but he could barely distinguish the weird squiggles from the other. Was that the spider one? Or the sh one? Or even the double shsh one? He made a mental note to tell his classmate to work on her handwriting in the future.

He threw down some familiar letters on the remaining questions, turning it in with a smile. The instructor only glared.

“How was your weekend, Professor Arlovskaya?”

“Sit down and be quiet, Mr. Jones. Others aren’t done with their quizzes yet.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he sheepishly responded. He returned to his seat, slumping his head on folded arms while he waited for the rest of his class to get their shit together—he wondered whether they were taking so long because they knew the answers, or if they were equally as clueless as him but feigning intelligence.

They reviewed the Cyrillic alphabet for a spell, practicing reading and speaking. Then, they went over greetings and some verbs, which had been a bulk of the content of the quiz; as expected, Alfred had only gotten a bit over half correct, though he had at least gotten general sounds right on other questions. At the end of class, they cleared out.

Professor Arlovskaya stood in front of Alfred.

“Uh…” he began. “Hello?”

“You didn’t hand in your homework today, Mr. Jones.”

“Sorry… I had a busy weekend. Would it be alright if I handed it in tomorrow?”

“It’s so early in the year, but your grade is dipping. There’s plenty of time for you to pick it back up, of course, but only if you try a bit harder. You keep missing assignments, and your quiz scores are horrible.”

“Yeesh, don’t you think you’re being harsh?”

“I’m not done. Your pronunciation is impeccable. You speak fluidly and clearly. You are confident with the drills we do, yes?”

“Sure.”

“But you’re struggling with remembering the alphabet, I’m guessing?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I was the same with learning to read English, though, too. I prefer speaking, it comes more naturally.”

“Alright,” she pursed her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind. If you are ever having any difficulties, do not hesitate to reach out to me. I believe you can do very well in this class, Mr. Jones. Since the department is so close-knit, we work hard to accommodate all of our students, even if they have any problems that could prevent them from mastering the material.”

“Thanks, professor. I’ll keep that in mind!”

“Good. Now, I expect you to turn in your homework tomorrow, as well as the redos. You also haven’t done your blog post on why you decided to take Russian, and we missed you last week at the culture discussion. Remember, if you attend more of these events than the minimum, it’ll count as extra credit.”

“Got it. When’s the next event?”

“There’s a film tonight at seven. Oh, have you signed up for tutoring yet?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You should. We have two brilliant young students who could surely help you out. You have to go to three sessions, and we recommend first years go to two before the midterm. I think it might be helpful for you to attend one sooner rather than later so that you make sure you get the writing firmly set in your head; if it’s not, you’ll only have a harder and harder time remembering new vocabulary and grammar.”

“Alright, I’ll try to make it to the movie,” he promised. He’d rather not go since it was wing night at his favorite bar, but it seemed he had no choice. “And I’ll sign up for a tutor. Of the two, which would you recommend?”

“Ekaterina is great, very accommodating for the lower level students. Ivan… he’s rather strict. I don’t imagine you two would get along well. They’re both graduate students who’ve volunteered their services; we were lacking in upperclassmen Russian tutors since so many of them are either abroad or dropped the course.”

“Cool!” he beamed. “Thanks! Catch you later, then!”

He dashed to his next class, figuring he may be a bit late because of the conversation. He was right, but since it was a large lecture he was able to sneak in without much trouble. He found his friend and fellow engineering major, Ludwig, sitting in his usual seat near the middle.

“You’re late,” he whispered.

“Only by, like, two minutes! Did I miss anything?”

“No, she’s just reviewing the homework assignment.”

“Shit… we had homework?”

He sighed. “Yes, she posted it on the course website last week.”

“Is it already due?”

“It was due today before class.”

“No problem!” he bent down to get his laptop from his backpack. Opening up the class site, he scanned the brief assignment. While the professor lectured, Alfred typed away, splitting his attention between the reflection paragraph as well as instant messaging some of his friends. He left midway through the lecture as if to go to the bathroom, but instead he hit up the building’s printing station to get his homework.

At the end of class, he went up to the professor as she collected her things. Ludwig stayed behind, never missing a chance to witness Alfred’s renowned bullshitting first hand.

“Hey, Professor Hedevary!”

“Oh, hello Alfred,” she smiled, familiar with the young man. “Did you have a question for me?”

“Yes! So, I was wondering…” he babbled about the lecture—Ludwig was impressed that he’d even heard what she’d been speaking on. Somehow, he tied it back to the homework, which he sheepishly handed over, saying he hadn’t realized it had to be emailed. Then, he shamelessly incorporated bits of the lesson as well as something about her lab’s research into his discussion of the assignment, jotting down the observation on the paper. The professor was beaming, happy that someone was “so engaged with the material”. With a cheeky grin, he wished her a good day, saying he “looked forward to the next lecture.”

He and Ludwig left the hall and headed to their next shared lecture. “How have all of our professors not figured you out yet? They’re in the same department… surely they realize that you’ve been sucking up to all of them in the same way for three years.”

“It’s a mystery. Maybe they like to think that they’re special, or something. I won’t question their loneliness if it helps me get good grades!”

After his classes, he took a quick power nap in the library before buying himself a loaded bagel at the café as well as a bottle of Coke. He studied a bit with Ludwig then caught up on emails—he refused to open up any reminders about career fairs and resume workshops, choosing to postpone the dreadful process of job hunting.

After dinner in the dining hall with Arthur’s boyfriend and his group of friends, Alfred headed to the small lecture room located in the building that housed both the physics and chemistry departments. Given his studies, he’d been there many times before, but he’d never known there to be a room large enough for a screening: he thought there were only labs and offices there.

Still, he managed to find the room, one which he’d passed by countless times. He walked in to find a rather small space, Professor Arlovskaya near the front pulling up the movie on the projected screen. Only two other students were there.

“Alfred,” she smiled slightly. “I’m glad you came.”

“Hey,” he said. “So, what are we watching?”

“Oh, it is one of my favorites!” one of the guests, a young-looking woman with short, blond hair, said. “It’s a cult classic, _Стиляги_ , called _Hipsters_ in English!”

“Sounds cool.” She seemed friendly, so he decided to sit next to her. “I’m Alfred.”

“Ekaterina,” she responded.

“Oh, are you one of the tutors?”

“Yes, that’s right! Alfred… Oh, Natasha mentioned you to me! Have you made an appointment yet? It’s all online, of course.”

“Not yet. I was going to do it after this.”

“Good, I look forward to it! Ah, and this is Ivan!” She leaned back, offering a less-obstructed view of another man. “He is also a tutor.”

“Nice to meet you!” Alfred smiled, extending a hand. Ivan shook it firmly.

“Hello,” his accent was much thicker than both Professor Arlovskaya’s and Ekaterina’s. “Which class are you in?”

“I’m in first year! Professor Arlovskaya mentioned that you’re a grad student?” Ivan nodded. “That’s cool! What do you study?”

“I am interested in Slavic languages, as well as cinema, most particularly Soviet cinema.”

“Oh, movies? I love movies!”

He smiled. “Yes, they are excellent forms of media, be they for entertainment or… er… propaganda.”

“Is this your first year here?” He gave a slight nod to Ekaterina who politely excused herself, not wishing to be caught in the middle of the conversation.

“ да. I moved here in the summer from Moscow, where I had acquired my teaching degree.”

“How are you liking it?”

“The people here are nice. I am able to study what I want, which is good. And I’ve made close friends with other professors.”

“Cool! Are you, like, a professor yourself or anything?”

“No, though next semester I will be assistant for a Russian literature class.”

“Sounds cool. Had you been to the U.S. before?”

He shook his head. “While it is easier for students to get visas, I had never been able to get one, myself. Since I’ve been here, I’ve traveled a bit. Up the coast to New York; to Chicago, too. I hope to visit California during the winter, as I’ll be working with another professor then. I hear I’ll be much happier in the warmth.”

He laughed. “That’s for sure! I’m from California, myself, though my family usually travels to Colorado during Christmas break to ski for a few weeks.”

“That sounds nice.”

Alfred returned his soft smile—what had Professor Arlovskaya been talking about? Ivan was kind! Surely just as nice as Ekaterina. They talked for a few more minutes till it came time for the movie to start. Alfred had shifted to sitting right next to Ivan, who would occasionally educate him on certain locations, styles, and musical selections during the film. His commentary was amusing, and Alfred struggled to contain his laughter. Professor Arlovskaya cast him a few glares, but Ekaterina would usually whisper something to her to get her to turn her attention back to the screen.

At the end, they had some snacks and a brief discussion. Alfred raved about the film—he confessed that he’d never actually seen a Russian film before then, but that he couldn’t wait for the next movie night. At hearing that, Ivan beamed. He was happy to meet something who could share in his interest.

Alfred had to run off to catch a new episode of one of his favorite TV shows with Arthur, stomach full of blini. Once in the room, he was disgusted to find Arthur making out without shame with his boyfriend, a Spanish boy named Antonio.

“Dude!” he whined. “Gross!”

“Oh, Alfred,” he pulled away, ignoring his pouting lover. “Where’ve you been? We missed you at wing night.”

“I know, had to go to a movie for my Russian class.”

“Is that a smile? I thought you hated it.”

“You know, it’s not all that bad. The professor is actually really nice. And the tutors are, too. Oh! That reminds me… I need to sign up for a time slot.” He sat on his bed and threw his laptop down on the pillow carelessly. He logged into the language center’s site and clicked the “Tutor Sign-Up” button. Scrolling down to the “Russian” option, only pausing briefly to ask, “Hey, did y’all know we have Swahili classes?”, he pressed it; this brought up two names, both in Cyrillic. Luckily Alfred was perfectly capable of reading the names since they were both common ones that had been practiced during their classes spent reviewing the alphabet.

His cursor hovered over Ekaterina’s name. He really should pick her, he thought, since Professor Arlovskaya recommended so herself. But… Ivan was nice, too. Plus—Alfred had been repressing this thought while around him—Ivan was pretty easy on the eyes. Surely Alfred would be more motivated to study and go to tutoring if he had someone like Ivan to impress!

To hell with it! he thought. He selected the man’s name with an unnecessarily loud click, then specified which time he’d prefer: the next day, right after Alfred’s Russian class. Perfect!

* * *

It was not perfect. Where Ivan had been gentle and kind before, when it came to teaching, he was a total hard-ass. Even worse than his professor!

But then, the second their half-hour-long session ended, the disappointed glare was replaced with a soft smile.

“Natasha was right, your pronunciation is very good.”

Alfred gawked at the compliment. Just a minute before, Ivan hand been insulting his attempts at writing cursive, claiming that a blind baby could write better but then changing his mind to say that such a statement was an insult to blind babies everywhere!

“What?” he finally replied upon noticing that Ivan was still talking.

“Oh,” he frowned. “If you don’t want to…”

“Wait, sorry. I didn’t hear what you said after the thing about my pronunciation.”

“I asked if you’d like to get coffee sometime.”

“Oh! Like… to practice Russian?”

“Hет,” Ivan’s cheeks had taken on a slight pink hue.

“Oh…” Alfred replied stupidly. Ivan’s already wavering confidence seemed to falter further.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make this awkward… Please don’t be offended—“

“Dude!” Alfred interrupted. He reached across the small table to take Ivan’s frantically wringing hands in his own. He gave his signature winning smile. “Coffee sounds great.”

* * *

They met the next afternoon during a mutual break—having exchanged numbers, meeting up became much easier. They spent the evening after that in the library together, both having a few readings to catch up on. And the next evening, Alfred brought Ivan out to the bar to meet some of his friends.

Ivan was what Alfred liked to call disarmingly awkward. He did have a charm about him, but it was shy, markedly more reserved in comparison to Alfred’s boisterous tendencies. He almost feared exposing Ivan to his friends, all of whom were rather loud as well, but his fears were unfounded. They all were delighted with this new addition to their group. They’d known Alfred for years, seen him go through various flings and such. He’d been primarily focused on school followed quickly by friends, so romance wasn’t his strong suit. Hook-ups were few and far between, dates even more so—he’d been tempted to text people back, to try for a second date, but he was usually either too busy or too scared of putting his emotions on the line to hit send.

To them, Ivan seemed a good contrast to Alfred, though they did have similarities that led to conflict even at the bar, namely stubbornness.

“No, _I’ll_ pay, Ivan,” Alfred insisted. “You got the coffee the other day.”

“Yes, but I ordered more drinks than you intending to pay for the both of us,” his smile seemed to ice over. “Please, let _me_ pay.”

“It’s not a trouble. Besides, _you_ were complaining earlier about spending your food money on alcohol.”

“Yes, but _I_ at least have a source of income. You’re just a college student, it’s better that I cover it.”

“But _I’m_ the one who invited you…”

Their argument continued for several minutes, Alfred’s friends holding back laughs as they bickered. Yes, they surely had faith that Ivan might actually stand to be with Alfred for more than just one night.

They finally came to an agreement: Ivan would pay, but only on the condition that Alfred could pay on the next date. Alfred made sure to make their next date—dinner and a movie the next day—even more lavish to prove that such an expense wasn’t a bother. Ivan was smart enough to keep his mouth shut when the waiter brought their bill.

The following Monday, Alfred came to class, homework completed and having studied for his quiz. He and Ivan had spent an hour together the day before in Alfred’s room, reviewing genders of nouns. In that setting, Ivan had been much more approachable at least.

He’d also learned an important new phrase upon Ivan’s parting.

поцелуй меня _._

He smiled at the memory, nothing more than a faint, hurried brushing of lips. Ivan had asked him to say it, though Alfred didn’t know the first word, and then he had complied with Alfred’s unintentional demand.

That day the Russian department was having an event encouraging dialogue on US-Russian relations. It was co-hosted by the political science department, and Ivan was helping facilitate. He’d been nervous all day Sunday, actually, which is originally why he’d asked to visit Alfred in order to distract himself. He feared that his English would fail him, or that some of the students might get too polemical while speaking. Alfred attempted to sooth him, but talking about it only made Ivan more and more anxious, so instead Alfred promised to be there to shoot down any and all ignorant questions.

Having grown up in a rather conservative, suburban household, son of a war veteran and a doctor, Alfred had always been taught to love his country. For a long time, he followed that love blindly: he pledged allegiance each school day with a smile, he attended parades and watched the fireworks shoot through the sky every year on his birthday, he righteously defended his country’s actions at home and abroad, and he would always be the first to say in discussions on foreign politics that the USA was the greatest country in the world.

He grew up, of course, and he learned. With so much information at his fingertips (plus a penchant for procrastination), he could easily delve deeper into the truth of his homeland’s violent history. He also came to appreciate more and more about other cultures, and realized that inferiority wasn’t a term that could fairly be applied to any group of people. It helped that most of his friends in university were international students—really, whenever they were together they could’ve made for a great brochure photo—who were patient enough to educate him when he said something problematic.

Alfred was a little late to Ivan’s event, as he’d warned, due to his lab running late. He planned to pop in and settle himself quietly near the door, but the room was jam-packed. He ended up having to shuffle through rows of pressed students just to find an open spot—on the _floor_. Ivan, of course, didn’t miss the bustle, so Alfred shot him a supportive smile.

The event wasn’t as controversial as Alfred had thought it might be, and Ivan was fantastic. He was very knowledgeable on just about everything going on in the world, it seemed, and Alfred found himself growing more and more impressed by the minute. Sure, they had talked a lot, but it was usually somewhat shallow conversation, still introductory and allegorical in nature, with the occasional passing comment on current affairs or opinions. Ivan sometimes talked of his research, but the topic was too esoteric for Alfred to understand. Likewise, Alfred would babble about his current coursework and show Ivan a particularly tough engineering problem, and he would just stare blankly, making a comment about how he’d never liked science. Of course, neither thought that the other was stupid for not understanding that which they’d personally been studying for years. It was refreshing to see Ivan fully in his element, Alfred thought. He wondered then, what Ivan might think of his own intelligence. Did he think him less smart because he didn’t know many things beyond the scope of his major? He’d wanted a more holistic program, but the number of credits required from his degree made electives a far-off dream. His Russian class was truly his first free elective he’d had!

As the crowds dissipated, Alfred stuck around, dodging legs and stray backpacks that floated past him. Finally, he stood then made his way over to Ivan, who was packing up his things.

“Вам идёт этот костюм,” Alfred attempted the phrase he’d previously Googled while admiring Ivan in his uncharacteristically fancy suit. _(You look very smart in this suit)_

He smiled. “Спасибо, Alfred. Did you learn that in class today?”

“Nope,” he returned the smile. “Googled it.” He brought his phone closer to his face to read. “Tы выглядишь очень мило.” _(You look very pretty.)_

“Ты выглядишь очень красиво.”

“What’s that last word?”

“’Beautiful’,”

“Oh,” he flushed. “Dude… I’m wearing sweats, hardly beautiful. What did I call you then?”

He hummed. “It has more of a ‘cute’, or ‘pretty’, connotation.”

“Well, then you can have the красиво, I think that’s more accurate.”

“Thank you, again. Did you enjoy the discussion?”

“Oh yeah! It was хорошо! You did very well! Didn’t look nervous at all.”

“I’m glad. I thought that one young man was going to be rude… but he wasn’t.”

“I totally would’ve save the day if he had been!”

“Of course,” he smiled. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“Nope. I was gonna head to the dining hall to meet up with my friends. Wanna join?”

“Sure. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could watch a movie, or something.”

“Alright! Yeah, I finished most of my homework. Where at?”

“If you don’t mind, my apartment isn’t too far from campus. We could walk.”

“Sounds perfect!”

* * *

Again, it was not perfect.

Sure, dinner was well and good; Alfred’s friends embarrassed him as friends are wont to do when another has a new suitor. The walk was sweet, they held hands even. Alfred’s mind screamed at him how corny the whole scene was, and he didn’t mind it at all.

Their good fortune ran out however when they got to Ivan’s apartment. He unlocked it, opened the door, and then…

“No,” Professor Arlovskaya’s voice was quick to strike. “Alfred will not be in my house.”

“Oh! Hey there, professor! What’s up?”

“Ivan,” she turned to the younger man. “Why is he here?”

“We were going to watch—“

“Ah! Well, he needed extra help with homework, you do push them so hard.”

“Он студент,” she muttered. Alfred smiled—even _he_ could understand that simple statement. “Это противоречит правилам.” Ah, and thus his understanding fled. 

“Наташа, я не являюсь его учителем. Это законно.” 

She sighed loudly. “Вы должны быть сосредоточены на учебе.” 

“Это мое дело.” 

“Сколько ему лет?” 

“Это имеет значение? Мы взрослые.” 

“Вы не должны ставить под угрозу свой пост. Не из-за него.” 

“Зачем? Он хороший человек.” 

Sighing again, she glared between the two of them. With a huff, she grabbed her coat from the front closet and brushed past them. “I will be at Toris’s for the evening, then.” She slammed the door shut.

Ivan let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d be home.”

“She didn’t sound too happy. What was that about? I recognized a few words, but I’m still a rookie,” he laughed, hoping to clear the tense air.

He shook his head. “She is very protective of me. Since I came here, both she and Ekaterina treat me like their younger brother. At first it was because they were so few people in our department and they wanted me to feel welcome, but we have become like something of a family. She’s just worried I’ll get in trouble for this, or perhaps that I won’t be as focused on my research.”

“I’m sorry. Look, I don’t want to jeopardize your position, or anything.”

“Will you leave me, then?”

“What?” Alfred frowned on seeing Ivan’s dejected look. “No, I don’t want to do that at all. I just… well… I’ve never had a serious relationship before, you know, so I have no idea what I’m doing. But, I like spending time with you. I like that you don’t treat me like a kid. I like how you go crazy about Stalin and censorship and Acmeism. I like how you can’t pronounce any of the buildings on campus correctly—“

“What?” he blushed. “I thought you said I was!”

“I may have lied… but it’s so cute…”

He pouted. “Well, it’s cute whenever you get your genders wrong, I suppose, and I don’t correct you, either.”

“Dude! No fair! I’m actually getting graded on this!”

Ivan only laughed. “I am just teasing you. So, then, you are willing to stay with me?”

“Of course! You’re awesome! Now, let’s watch that movie!”

They did, though since it was a romance, they found themselves sufficiently inspired. Neither even remembered the last half, as they were too busy sloppily making out on the couch to pay attention.

The hour was growing late, and Alfred knew he had to get home soon. Pulling away, he placed a long-lasting, close-mouthed kiss to Ivan’s lips.

“I have to head home,” he said.

Ivan nodded. “Alright. Before you go, would you care for a lesson?”

“A lesson?” he smiled. “Is it worth any extra credit?”

“Maybe, if you do well. First,” he leant forward for another chaste kiss. “Поцелуй.”

“Поцелуй,” Alfred repeated.

“Хорошо. Next,” here he placed a finger on Alfred’s lips. “Губы.”

He giggled, thinking the word sounded funny. “Губ.”

“No, with a hard sound.”

“Губы.”

“Хорошо. Then,” he brushed his fingers over Alfred’s pink cheeks, following up with a kiss to each side. “Щека.”

“Щека.”

He nodded. “You’re doing well.”

“You’re a good teacher,” he grinned.

“Улыбка,” Ivan said.

“What’s that?”

“A smile,” he said, giving an улыбка of his own.

“Улыбка,” he tried to lock the word up in his mind. “What’s this?” he placed a kiss to the tip of Ivan’s large nose.

“Нос.”

“Lame… so, this… большой нос?”

He laughed. “My nose isn’t that big.”

“You’re right. It’s perfect” he hummed to himself. Bringing his hand lower, he rested it over Ivan’s chest; through his clothes and skin, he could feel the erratic thrumming of his heart. “And this?”

“Сердце.”

“Сердце,” Alfred repeated. “Wait… is that heart or shirt? Just to clarify I was trying to go for the romantic angle…”

“It is heart. Shirt is pубашка.”

“Got it.” He reached even further down, tangling his fingers with Ivan’s. “And these?”

“Пальцы. Five of them make рука.”

He nodded. “Рубашка. Пять пальцев in a рука.”

“That’s right,” he kissed the back of Alfred’s hand. “Do you remember what that was?”

“Да. It was a… поцелуи.”

“Close. Поцелуй. Not an и.”

“Поцелуй… поцелуй меня!”

He chuckled. “Конечно.”

For several sweet seconds, they kissed. Ivan pulled away first this time, granting himself the privilege to witness Alfred’s eyes flutter open in confusion.

“Прекрасный,” he breathed.

“What’s that?” Alfred asked.

“We’ll save it for another lesson.” Leaning forward, he waited till Alfred closed his eyes expectantly before kissing each of his eyelids.

“Глаза.”

“Is that eyes?”

He nodded. “Голубые глаза.”

“Голубые глаза,” he repeated. “Is that… pretty eyes?”

“Нет, though that is also true. Голубой is… well, blue, but not just any plain blue, but a certain hue…”

“Hm… like… sapphire?”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re so sappy.”

“Sappy?”

“Cheesy. A goofball. Sentimental.”

“I see. Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he smiled. “It’s cute.”

“Thank you.” He sighed loudly. “I suppose we’ll have to continue our lesson another time.”

“I think I have a tutoring session scheduled with you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it all day.”

* * *

Despite his sweetness in their impromptu lessons, Ivan’s brusque and harsh methods returned just as Alfred settled at their booth in the language center. He attempted to speak informally, confident enough that he could pull off a very basic conversation, but Ivan immediately shot him down for being impolite. He rolled his eyes before switching from ты to Вы, which seemed to appease Ivan for a time. Still, he was rather quick to interrupt Alfred’s recitations, and even quicker to snatch his pen and write things properly.

Again, just afterwards they went for coffee and Ivan was his friendly self. Alfred was understandably frustrated with the dual nature of his personality—he knew, of course, that Ivan had to maintain a professional air while working, but still, teachers were allowed to be kind to their students!

He spoke with some of classmates about their experiences with the tutors, and they all raved about Ekaterina. A few had tried Ivan’s lessons, but only once; they couldn’t take the abuse, they said, and were surprised Alfred put up with him for multiple lessons.

Alfred was working on his homework with Ludwig in the library when he received a text. He smiled on reading the name, and Ludwig chuckled.

“Ivan, I’m guessing?”

“Да.”

“Are you two dating, then?”

“You know… we haven’t talked about it. But, I’m under the impression that we’re both exclusive.”

“How long’s it been?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, like… a week or two, I guess?”

“Do you like him?”

“Of course. He’s nice—well, except during tutoring. Then he’s a total dick!”

“Really? Even with you?”

“Especially with me! I feel like he’s unnecessarily strict with me. I mean, I guess it’s not all bad—I definitely have a solid A in the class, and Professor Arlovskaya says she’s very impressed with me. But, it’d be nice to get some consistency from him, you know? Like we’ll be making out and he’ll be super sweet and even teach me some new words, but then in the office it’s all business.”

“He’s not breaking any rules in seeing you, is he?”

“No, since he’s just a tutor he says it’s okay. It’s not encouraged, but he’s not grading me so they don’t care that much.”

“I see. Have you talked to him about it?”

“You know I don’t talk about feelings,” he cringed.

“You should eventually.”

He laughed. “Ironic coming from you! You never do that yourself!”

“Well, learn from what I say not what I do, isn’t that how the expression goes?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to him eventually… I just don’t want to make things awkward. What if he gets upset?”

“I’m sure it won’t be as dramatic as you think; you’re just delaying it and building it up in your head. It’ll probably just be a simple, ‘hey stop being mean to me’, then an ‘okay’, then you’ll make out.”

“That sounds good to me!” he grinned. “You know, we haven’t even had sex yet.”

“You poor thing…” he rolled his eyes. “It’s only been a week. Welcome to reality. I’d recommend DTRing before the sex, though.”

“But—“

“Shut up; be smart about this if you really do like him. Otherwise he’ll be just like your other exes.”

“Harsh.”

“But true.”

He sighed. “You’re so wise… speaking of… what are you getting for 2b?”

He flipped through some pages. “Point eight-four.”

“What? I got 300 Kelvin.”

“That’s not even the question! It gave the temperature in the problem statement!”

“Oh… yeah that makes sense, hah!” He snatched Ludwig’s homework. “Oh, it’s not even a CSTR? What the hell rate law did you use?”

He sighed. “What have you even been doing? You do know we have a test in two weeks, right?”

“Eh, that’s nothing—you know how I am at cramming. Easy peasy.”

“I feel like you’re more focused on your Russian than on your actual major requirements… both the language and your boy.”

He ignored the boy comment. “Well, language isn’t something you can just cram, you know. It’s a habit—you have to do it every day!”

“You should study everything everyday—“

“Nonsense! Nobody’s got time for that! Besides, I have no intention of using this shit in my job. If I did, I’d just use a program to figure everything out, anyway!”

“You should understand _how_ those programs work, though.”

“Nah… that’s what Google’s for!”

He shook his head. “Whatever you say. Anyway, which phase diagram are we supposed to use for number 4? She didn’t attach one in the homework assignment.”

“We were supposed to use a diagram?” Ludwig stared at him blankly. “I’m kidding! Here, it’s in the textbook,” he rooted around his backpack in search of the thick, yellow tome. “Oh, wait, I didn’t bring mine. Do you have yours?”

“No. Too heavy to carry around.”

Alfred stood. “Maybe it’s in the reserves. I’ll be right back.” He headed to the elevator, stopping to take a few sips from a drinking fountain. Once in the basement, he recognized Ivan speaking with one of the librarians at the help desk. He snuck up behind him then wrapped his arms around his waist, laughing when Ivan released a high-pitched squeak.

“Hey Ваня!” he yelled, temporarily forgetting the law of the library to be quiet. The librarian’s glare chastised him, but he ignored it.

“Ah, Alfred,” he blushed. “Good evening.”

“How’s it going?” he asked, hold on Ivan still tight.

“Fine. I needed to check out some books. And you?”

“Same! I forgot my textbook, and Ludwig and I need it to finish our homework.”

“I see. Where are you two working?”

“Fifth floor. Do you have a spot? You can join us if you’d like.”

He smiled. “Sure, I’d love to.”

Unfortunately for Ludwig, the two new любители were not the best at remaining focused on their work. Their table was cramped with everyone’s books and laptops, and even though Alfred and Ivan were pressed close enough on their side of the booth, Ludwig thought it too cramped with three larger-than-average men.

Ivan had already met Ludwig before, and they got along well enough. Ivan seemed to be serious, much like Ludwig, but he had his moments of jocular immaturity just as Alfred often did. Like most of Alfred’s friends, Ludwig thought them a good match. The only person who didn’t like Ivan was Arthur, it seemed, and that was only because he was worried he would take up too much of his roommate/best friend’s time, a fair assumption seeing as Arthur himself spent most of his time with Antonio ever since they’d started dating, sometimes even ditching plans with Alfred to do so.

Ivan had no clue what the pair were working on; given his field, he’d only been required to take basic math and science courses. Alfred, excited to have someone to explain things to, showed him his work as best he could—Ludwig thought it cute, truly, as Alfred was usually never so enthused about his studies. He wondered why he felt the need to prove himself to Ivan. He was always so confident: he’d outgrown a desire to please others, and tended to do whatever he wanted without fear of judgment or consequences. Ludwig often wished he could go through life that way, but his personality wasn’t suited for it. He enjoyed order and rules, and he wanted people to respect him for his merits.

His friendship with Alfred had been unexpected—their freshman year, Alfred would always talk to him, invite him to meals or bars or study sessions. Ludwig didn’t respond till a month in, and he only attended the academic meet-ups. Over time, though, he came to value Alfred as a good friend. He was grateful, too, that he’d been able to meet other new friends through the more outgoing man, as prior to Alfred he’d mainly hung around with his older brother, a sophomore at the time, and his friends.

Alfred was a headstrong, brash kind of man, but he was kind and genuine; though clueless at times, he could pick up on lessons quickly, be they in lecture or in life. Ludwig personally thought he wasn’t suited for his major, as his mind tended toward more creative pursuits. He was the type to ask all kinds of questions, no matter how ridiculous, that would even baffle some professors. He had a hunger for knowledge, but it wasn’t exactly because he wanted to _do_ anything with it, he just liked knowing. Ludwig imagined he’d do very well on a show like _Jeopardy!,_ as he made a habit of hoarding random factoids that weren’t particularly useful.

Alfred’s interests were always ephemeral in nature, both with people and coursework. His attention span was remarkably short, he hopped from club to club each semester, and the thought of a routine job working on the same project day-in and day-out disgusted him. As such, Ludwig had never pegged him as a relationship type. He’d had his flings, but he kept things very casual. Even when he had dates, he rarely talked about them, as by the time such a conversation would even come up, he’d have moved on. Whenever any of his friends got involved in anything serious, he mourned them as if they’d been lost to him. With Arthur, especially, he’d been beside himself, though he got along with Antonio. Even when Ludwig began dating their mutual friend, Kiku, Alfred avoided them, feeling as if he was unwelcome around them.

Given his attributes, then, Ludwig was surprised to see Alfred so affectionate toward Ivan. In the few cases he’d witnessed Alfred on a date, he’d either be hamming it up, attracting everyone’s attention, and not fully focused on his date’s happiness, or flirty in such a way that made it clear he only wanted a one-time thing. But, there he was, holding hands with Ivan without shame, batting his eyelashes and feeding him bits of a muffin he’d bought from the first floor café, practically cooing at him in Russian.

What was special about Ivan? he wondered. He didn’t know enough about the grad student to judge him fairly, so he couldn’t help but be suspicious. He only hoped Alfred knew what he was doing.

Unsurprisingly, Alfred had no idea what he was doing. He was quite distracted by Ivan, however, so when they were together he tried not to overanalyze things and to just enjoy himself while he could—which, he hoped, would be for a long time.

Instead of tracking the passing of time and the constant presence of Ivan—who was still an asshole in tutoring; they _did_ talk about that eventually, and Alfred tried to only see Ekaterina for a time, but neither him nor Ivan were too happy with the arrangement so he was quick to book his next appointment during Ivan’s time slot—Alfred found himself looking forward, not back. Why, it had been four months, so why not four more? Four more years, even, his patriotic side chanted. And then some more, he thought with a smile.

During graduation season, his suit saw more uses than necessary, what with the parties, the ceremony itself, the dinner with his parents that saw him finally introducing them to his дружок—the DTR had been successful, as Ludwig had wisely predicted—and the wedding.

Oh, not theirs, don’t worry—not yet, at least.

But, they had attended Arthur and Antonio’s nuptials together; as the best man, Alfred had been rather busy in the days leading up the event, so much so that he didn’t notice Ivan’s distracted air. He didn’t see the way he sweat while they danced, waiting for the two grooms to return to the dance floor. Didn’t think it odd that Ivan was drinking an alarming amount of champagne. He also didn’t find it out of character how competitive Ivan was to catch the bouquet—he was silly like that, after all, and Alfred’s cheers only egged him on.

Still, he’d be an idiot not to notice Ivan down on his knee later that night after they’d stepped outside for some fresh air.

His eyes widened, his grip on the gifted bouquet tightening. “Ваня, what are you—“ he began, already knowing the answer.

“Al, I know this is, perhaps, too soon. But… Солнышко. Я люблю тебя всей душой. Я не могу жить без тебя. Ты нужен мне. Will you marry me?” _(I love you with all my soul. I can not live without you. I need you.)_

His responding grin truly could rival the cолнышко, Ivan thought. “Да! Kонечно! Я так люблю тебя! Давай сыграем свадьбу!” _(I love you so much, let’s get married!)_

He laughed, placing the simple band on Alfred’s ring finger. “I don’t think Natalya taught you how to say that,” he observed.

“I may have looked it up,” he confessed sheepishly.

“A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” Rising, he pulled Alfred closer to him; Alfred returned the embrace gently.

“I prefer the word optimistic, actually.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice sooner… At one point I left the ring out on my office desk and when I came back you were in there taking a nap!”

“Really?” he laughed. “I must have been too tired to notice. You know, Arthur’s gonna be pissed that you asked me on his big day.”

“I already got his blessing.”

“How traditional of you.”

“I have been called rather orthodox.”

He hummed. “Was that a joke?”

“It was supposed to be,” he chuckled.

“Leave the jokes to me, бублик.”

Ivan pouted. “Of all the names that had to stick… I wish I could take Google away from you.”

“It’s cute!” he insisted. “It both reminds me of my favorite circular carb as well as my favorite Canadian, Grammy-winning singer.” He kissed the tip of Ivan’s nose. “And you, of course.”

“How am I like a bagel?”

“Don’t ask silly questions.”

Ivan of course wasn’t angry—he never truly could be all that angry at Alfred’s antics, after all. “Come, we should get back. Isn’t it your job to make sure Arthur doesn’t get too drunk?”

He groaned, dropping his forehead to Ivan’s chest. “Oh… I forgot… talk about mission impossible!”

“Talk about it? It is the spy movie, yes? What should I say on it?”

He laughed. “Just an expression, you don’t actually have to talk about it!” Taking a step back as well as Ivan’s hand in his own, new ring glistening in the lights of the pavilion, he led him back inside to share the good news with their friends and family. He was beaming for the rest of the night, and his joy was reflected just as brightly on his partner’s—his fiancé’s, he reminded himself, not quite used to the new term—face. He silently thanked his past, bored self for drunkenly signing up for Introductory Russian the year before, then thanked Ivan, too.

“What for?” he asked.

“For everything,” he replied with a lasting kiss to his lips.

“Спасибо, Alfred. I love you.”

“Я тоже тебя люблю, Ваня.”


End file.
